GO PHILLIES!!! Beat those yanks.
That's right. I follow baseball. Just another one of my many charms.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
I like underdogs
GO PHILLIES!!! Beat those yanks.
That's right. I follow baseball. Just another one of my many charms.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The longing of the tired student
Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches
by Mary Oliver
"...Who can open the door who does not reach for the latch?
Who can travel the miles who does not put one foot
in front of the other, all attentive to what presents itself
continually?
Who will behold the inner chamber who has not observed
with admiration, even with rapture, the outer stone?
Well, there is time left -
fields everywhere invite you into them.
And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away
from wherever you are, to look for your soul?
Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk!
To put one's foot into the door of the grass, which is
the mystery, which is death as well as life, and
not be afraid!
To set one's foot in the door of death, and be overcome
with amazement!
To sit down in front of the weeds, and imagine
god the ten-fingered, sailing out of his house of straw,
nodding this way and that way, to the flowers of the
present hour,
to the song falling out of the mockingbird's pink mouth,
to the tippets of the honeysuckle, that have opened
in the night
To sit down, like a weed among weeds, and rustle in the wind!
Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?
While the soul, after all, is only a window,
and the opening of the window no more difficult
than the wakening from a little sleep.
Only last week I went out among the thorns and said
to the wild roses:
deny me not,
but suffer my devotion.
Then, all afternoon, I sat among them. Maybe
I even heard a curl or tow of music, damp and rouge red,
hurrying from their stubby buds, from their delicate watery bodies.
For how long will you continue to listen to those dark shouters,
caution and prudence?
Fall in! Fall in!
A woman standing in the weeds.
A small boat flounders in the deep waves, and what's coming next
is coming with its own heave and grace.
Meanwhile, once in a while, I have chanced, among the quick things,
upon the immutable.
What more could one ask?
And I would touch the faces of the daises,
and I would bow down
to think about it.
That was then, which hasn't ended yet.
Now the sun begins to swing down. Under the peach-light,
I cross the fields and the dunes, I follow the ocean's edge.
I climb, I backtrack.
I float.
I ramble my way home."
by Mary Oliver
"...Who can open the door who does not reach for the latch?
Who can travel the miles who does not put one foot
in front of the other, all attentive to what presents itself
continually?
Who will behold the inner chamber who has not observed
with admiration, even with rapture, the outer stone?
Well, there is time left -
fields everywhere invite you into them.
And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away
from wherever you are, to look for your soul?
Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk!
To put one's foot into the door of the grass, which is
the mystery, which is death as well as life, and
not be afraid!
To set one's foot in the door of death, and be overcome
with amazement!
To sit down in front of the weeds, and imagine
god the ten-fingered, sailing out of his house of straw,
nodding this way and that way, to the flowers of the
present hour,
to the song falling out of the mockingbird's pink mouth,
to the tippets of the honeysuckle, that have opened
in the night
To sit down, like a weed among weeds, and rustle in the wind!
Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?
While the soul, after all, is only a window,
and the opening of the window no more difficult
than the wakening from a little sleep.
Only last week I went out among the thorns and said
to the wild roses:
deny me not,
but suffer my devotion.
Then, all afternoon, I sat among them. Maybe
I even heard a curl or tow of music, damp and rouge red,
hurrying from their stubby buds, from their delicate watery bodies.
For how long will you continue to listen to those dark shouters,
caution and prudence?
Fall in! Fall in!
A woman standing in the weeds.
A small boat flounders in the deep waves, and what's coming next
is coming with its own heave and grace.
Meanwhile, once in a while, I have chanced, among the quick things,
upon the immutable.
What more could one ask?
And I would touch the faces of the daises,
and I would bow down
to think about it.
That was then, which hasn't ended yet.
Now the sun begins to swing down. Under the peach-light,
I cross the fields and the dunes, I follow the ocean's edge.
I climb, I backtrack.
I float.
I ramble my way home."
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Because I dislike school and need to remind myself about the good stuff...
...Here is a list of things that I have been enjoying lately:
1. Listening to The Acorn.
2. The soggy leaves that have strewn across the road.
3. Wearing scarves.
4. Drinking black tea with milk and a little honey.
5. Holding a warm mug in my hands.
6. Admiring the neighbors' carved pumpkins.
7. Admiring The Avett Brothers. In case you need a visual:
8. My art work.
9. My good health.
10. Melancholy moments.
11. Enjoying the company of some good people.
12. Breathing. Yes. This is nice.
13. Taking a few moments to just sit and think.
14. Thinking of hilarious puns about drugs that seem to pop up everywhere including church. "Taking a trip" ahahahaha.
...Here is a list of things that I have been enjoying lately:
1. Listening to The Acorn.
2. The soggy leaves that have strewn across the road.
3. Wearing scarves.
4. Drinking black tea with milk and a little honey.
5. Holding a warm mug in my hands.
6. Admiring the neighbors' carved pumpkins.
7. Admiring The Avett Brothers. In case you need a visual:
8. My art work.
9. My good health.
10. Melancholy moments.
11. Enjoying the company of some good people.
12. Breathing. Yes. This is nice.
13. Taking a few moments to just sit and think.
14. Thinking of hilarious puns about drugs that seem to pop up everywhere including church. "Taking a trip" ahahahaha.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
After a night and a day of driving, I am back in Winnipeg. Being home was wonderful and sunny and crisp...and I pretty much sat on the couch writing papers the whole time. Funny how school can just weasle into your holdiay...BUT...enough talk of that painful subject.
I must say that I rather enjoyed the drive to and from Nelson. Lots of opportunity for thinking and being quiet with those thoughts, and the fall colours weren't bad either. I did have a rather hilarious experience during an early morning turn that I took to drive when the white painted lines on the road started to peel off the pavement and do little dances. I termed this experience as exhaustion induced hallucinations. Although it could also be due to a mental disorder caused by writing too many papers...food for thought, professors, food for thought.
I did take a couple of breaks in between the stupid papers to go apple picking, apple juicing, and of course to eat the beautiful meal of delight on Sunday. And here I digress to marvel over the food that was consumed. Turkey, mashed potatoes (from my mom's garden), carrots and beans (also from the garden), stuffing that my sister is famous for, homemade cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, AND homemade apple and pumpkin pie. mmmmm.
And now, here I sit. I am in the library trying to organize my life which includes contacting student loans who seem to have forgotton about my application, figuring out what assigment is due next, and refurbishing my school notebooks, which seem to be full of handouts that need to be hole-punched.
Life is beautiful.
I must say that I rather enjoyed the drive to and from Nelson. Lots of opportunity for thinking and being quiet with those thoughts, and the fall colours weren't bad either. I did have a rather hilarious experience during an early morning turn that I took to drive when the white painted lines on the road started to peel off the pavement and do little dances. I termed this experience as exhaustion induced hallucinations. Although it could also be due to a mental disorder caused by writing too many papers...food for thought, professors, food for thought.
I did take a couple of breaks in between the stupid papers to go apple picking, apple juicing, and of course to eat the beautiful meal of delight on Sunday. And here I digress to marvel over the food that was consumed. Turkey, mashed potatoes (from my mom's garden), carrots and beans (also from the garden), stuffing that my sister is famous for, homemade cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, AND homemade apple and pumpkin pie. mmmmm.
And now, here I sit. I am in the library trying to organize my life which includes contacting student loans who seem to have forgotton about my application, figuring out what assigment is due next, and refurbishing my school notebooks, which seem to be full of handouts that need to be hole-punched.
Life is beautiful.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
I am still alive, just.
I have moved to a new house, a new neighborhood, and semi new roommates. I am sharing a room with Larisa, which pretty much sucks, but I'm dealing. She just brought me some tomato soup and crackers and massaged my shoulders, and I told her that I expect some cheesecake for dessert. I have said goodbye to the big, ugly green house in Wolseley. There was too much crime there anyways.
I like this new place. I feel a greater sense of peace, that is likely due to the fact that I am done moving.
Good Story: On Friday in my social welfare class, I was mildly chewing on the end of my pen (NOTE: It bothers me when other people chew on their pens, and I forget that I have tendencies to do the same)...when out of the blue my hand, or head (not sure which) gave a mighty jerk (definitely not a result of nearly falling asleep) and the pen created a small crevice in my mouth which has now developed into what is scientifically known as a cankersore. I hate cankersores. They come at really bad times. Like when you are stressed.
I am trying to write a reflection paper for practicum. I am stuck at the first question: What was your goal for these past two weeks at practicum? All I can think of is that I hoped to abstain from running into the bathroom crying, but that sounds rather un-social workey. I think it will get better. Or not. Either way it is a great "learning experience!" Working with people who have addictions feels pretty daunting right now. There is only so much that a book or professor or power point can teach, and right now I am feeling like the big cat that lived in our garage and would mew mournfully like this: "Mehewwwwewwoooohhhhhh". He was feeling trapped by his circumstances, just like me.
I am slowly figuring out the bus system. I have only been late for work once so far, and I think that I am getting better at walking onto the bus without falling over when the bus driver pulls away. Ironically, I am enjoying public transit. My bus pass feels like a golden ticket from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with special powers. I just flash it at the driver and he nods his head and away we go. Kind of miraculous.
On Tuesday after an orientation at the Methadone Clinic and a desperate attempt at finding resources for my papers, I am departing this city for a road trip HOME for Thanksgiving! I love being home in the Autumn season. I get to help my dad with firewood, and make apple juice in the ol' apple press and drink rooibos chai with my mom. Pure bliss.
I like this new place. I feel a greater sense of peace, that is likely due to the fact that I am done moving.
Good Story: On Friday in my social welfare class, I was mildly chewing on the end of my pen (NOTE: It bothers me when other people chew on their pens, and I forget that I have tendencies to do the same)...when out of the blue my hand, or head (not sure which) gave a mighty jerk (definitely not a result of nearly falling asleep) and the pen created a small crevice in my mouth which has now developed into what is scientifically known as a cankersore. I hate cankersores. They come at really bad times. Like when you are stressed.
I am trying to write a reflection paper for practicum. I am stuck at the first question: What was your goal for these past two weeks at practicum? All I can think of is that I hoped to abstain from running into the bathroom crying, but that sounds rather un-social workey. I think it will get better. Or not. Either way it is a great "learning experience!" Working with people who have addictions feels pretty daunting right now. There is only so much that a book or professor or power point can teach, and right now I am feeling like the big cat that lived in our garage and would mew mournfully like this: "Mehewwwwewwoooohhhhhh". He was feeling trapped by his circumstances, just like me.
I am slowly figuring out the bus system. I have only been late for work once so far, and I think that I am getting better at walking onto the bus without falling over when the bus driver pulls away. Ironically, I am enjoying public transit. My bus pass feels like a golden ticket from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with special powers. I just flash it at the driver and he nods his head and away we go. Kind of miraculous.
On Tuesday after an orientation at the Methadone Clinic and a desperate attempt at finding resources for my papers, I am departing this city for a road trip HOME for Thanksgiving! I love being home in the Autumn season. I get to help my dad with firewood, and make apple juice in the ol' apple press and drink rooibos chai with my mom. Pure bliss.
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